


5 times people noticed the grey-sloan friendships

by writing pseud (sadlyimustleave)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Episode Tag: s11e01 I Must Have Lost It on the Wind, Episode Tag: s11e20 One Flight Down, Family, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, andrew just wanted to take a nap, i don't think they write enough about the friendships between these people, miranda has a lot of feelings about her interns, that's a secret Shonda will never tell, the Seattle Grace Five, the plane crash wasn't talked about enough, why don't they mention the older characters in the newer seasons?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28455264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlyimustleave/pseuds/writing%20pseud
Summary: ...and 1 time someone said something about it.Basically this fic is a way for me to put all my strong feelings about the friendships/relationships into the minds of the characters because there is not enough discussion about all the crazy shit that happen in this show.
Relationships: Arizona Robbins & Mark Sloan, Jackson Avery & Mark Sloan, Lexie Grey & Meredith Grey, Mark Sloan & Callie Torres, Meredith Grey & Alex Karev, Meredith Grey & Alex Karev & Cristina Yang, Miranda Bailey & Alex Karev
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. Bailey, on Karev

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place during 11x01, when Karev and Bailey are fighting over the Board seat left by Christina.

_I ain't no psychiatrist, I ain't no doctor with degrees_  
_It don't take too much high IQ's to see what you're doing to me_

Miranda didn’t have time for this – not with her mind screaming for order, for _one two three four five, all the sutures in a row, perfectly even_. All she could think about was the piece that didn’t fit ( _I deserve this board seat, how could you think of taking this seat from me?_ ) and she needed the silence, the serenity, the _order_ of surgery ( _five sutures all in a row_ ) to tide her over until the rest of the pieces could fall into place. 

She didn’t have the time to explain to Edwards why she didn’t need practice her presentation, she needed to operate, which was why when Edwards mentioned Grey in Karev’s bathroom Miranda didn’t register it, just rattled something _Bailey_ off her tongue. It isn’t until later, elbow deep in a trauma victim from a car pile up (her OR perfectly silent, quiet, _clean_ ) that she realizes what Edwards said.

 _Huh_ , she thinks, _figures_. That group of interns (always her interns, young and stupid) would never let something as trivial as nakedness or, God forbid, social convention get between them, not when their friendship was built on so much (blood, screaming, late nights, on-call rooms, tears, laughter, fleeting touches–) more. 

Hell, nudity was nothing to Miranda, who’d had all five of her interns on her table before, draped with gallery windows closed, but more vulnerable than nudity could ever get them. One dead, two fleeing the country, and two here (she ignored the voice in her head that whispered _for now_ ). 

She huffed a laugh at the indignation she recalled in Edwards’ tone that morning. Edwards’ group of interns, with only one loss tying them together, were so naive to the bonds this hospital had molded it was almost funny. Of course they would think a shared bathroom was bizarre or inappropriate when they weren’t around for the Karev-feeling-Yang-up rumors that had run rampant after he failed his practical (Miranda had almost choked when she overheard the night nurses talking about _that_ ). She was almost worried to think about what their reactions would be if they ever heard about the Yang-Grey sleepovers that featured Shepherd. Miranda’d probably have to hear them whisper about _boundaries_ and _how weird it was_ for weeks. 

Sometimes when Miranda heard the whispers, the _envy_ , aimed at her interns by Edwards’ group she felt a rage so palpable she thought her nails (kept short, kept _clean_ ) would cut through her double layered gloves. Yes, cool surgeries and solo procedures were glamorous at first, but _how could they not see the cost?_ The way that Grey always checked the faces of her John Does before cutting into them, how Karev couldn’t go to the Psych floor by himself, how Yang had never operated in the same OR she saved Shepherd’s life in again. 

Every scrap of experience, of grit, that Miranda’s interns had, they traded pieces of themselves for, and it was not without cost. Hell, even Miranda lost pieces of herself to this hospital – mopped away with the rest of Percy’s blood and disposed of with every extra set of gloves she pulled off as she exited an OR. 

She squashed her sigh deep in her chest as she shook her head, trying to clear her mind of any macabre thoughts. _It’s important to focus on the good_ , she reminded herself, _what’s happy and bright, and to put that energy towards the patient_. She finished her last suture and stepped off her stool, rolling her neck to loosen the knots that had formed and gesturing for the nameless resident to begin closing up. As she exited her OR, she spotted Karev and Grey walking down the hallway in the opposite direction, faces turned too close together to see Miranda approaching. 

Their heads swung to face her as she snapped out a quick _Karev_ , and she had to suppress the wave of fondness that welled up in her chest, even as she gestured menacingly in his direction. 

He huffed half a grin in her direction before Grey pulled his attention back to her with a smack to his shoulder. The gesture was so achingly familiar she half expected to see Stevens and O’Malley running up behind them, chattering their heads off about a new surgery they had just scrubbed in on. 

As Edwards fell in behind her, Miranda decided she would be okay if the Board (fools that they were) decided to give the seat to Karev. If not her, better him than someone who didn’t understand the pain and suffering that bonded this hospital’s doctors together, the closeness that grew out of their shared suffering. _Yes_ , she thought, _at least that way I won’t have to deal with Wilson’s whining about Grey consoling Karev through his devastating loss_. She snorted. It wasn’t like the hospital wouldn’t give him his job back regardless of who got the seat. Fools. 

_People walking around everyday, playing games, taking scores_  
_Trying to make other people lose their minds_  
_Well be careful, you're gonna lose yours_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from Aretha Franklin's Think, aka the song Bailey plays in her head while getting scrubbed.


	2. Andrew DeLuca, on Mark Sloan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been a plane crash. This brings back memories for people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during 11x20, the episode where there's another plane crash at Seattle Grace. Now, DeLuca isn't introduced until 11x23, but I'm futzing with the timeline, so let's pretend that he was introduced earlier because I wrote this entire thing without bothering to check first. Also he's already Arizona's roommate because plot.

_I’ve just reached a place  
Where the willow don’t bend  
There’s not much more to be said  
It’s the top of the end_

Andrew DeLuca was tired. Now, this was not a new development, or even a particularly a surprising one, considering he was in the middle of his intern year, and he basically lived, breathed, and ate scut. However, as of right now, he had exactly 9 hours until his next shift (that he now regretted volunteering to cover), which he was planning to spend asleep in an on-call room. 

Bleary-eyed, he swung himself up on the top bunk of the bed furthest from the window to avoid the noon sun. _Why is it that the one day I need to nap_ , he thinks, _Seattle decides to figure out it’s weather?_ Regardless, he set his alarm to go off an hour before his shift starts and turned on his side to sleep, ready to get as much shut-eye as possible. 

Andrew opened his eyes at slam of a door, automatically awake. When he turned his phone over, the glowing letters informed him he still had seven hours left before he had to be on his feet. Fully intending to fall back asleep, he closed his eyes. At the sound of sniffling he opened his eyes again, frowning. _Was there someone in here? Are they crying? Am I supposed to leave them alone to cry? How do I even leave? Won’t that make it worse?_

Peeking over the edge of the bunk, he saw navy scrubs. _Even better, an attending. I definitely can’t leave now, huh_. He turned on his back. Maybe if he stayed still enough, whoever it was would leave before he got noticed. 

“Um, I’m not quite sure how I should do this so I guess I’m just going to go for it.” 

Andrew knew that voice – it was Dr Torres. _Is she talking to me?_

“There was a plane crash today. We’re being flooded by victims and I’m probably going to get paged any minute. I tried going down to the Pit to help out earlier but all I could think about was you.” 

_A plane crash? Holy shit, I totally have to get out there, the Pit is probably full of great surgeries. Crap, I can’t – this shift is going to take me up to my 80 hour limit for this week. Damn it._

“Um, Sofia turned five this year. She’s so big, and so beautiful, you wouldn’t believe it. She’s so smart, which, I suppose is the benefit of having three surgeons as parents.”

_That’s Torres’ daughter… so Sofia’s father must be who she’s talking to. Oh shit, three surgeons. Torres must be talking about (to?) Mark Sloan._

“She asks about you all the time, and I keep telling her that you’re watching over her with her Aunt Lexie. I won’t let her forget you though. Everyone all around the hospital tells her stories about her dad, and I-”

_Oh crap, she’s full-on crying now._

“It’s just unfair. You should be here with her. You should be here with me. I miss you Mark. I wish I could talk to you, about everything. I don’t know what to do about Arizona. I love her but I don’t know how to be happy with her. God, if you were here you’d probably know exactly what to say. Crap.” 

_Oh her pager beeped. Thank God, I wasn’t sure if I could listen in good conscience anymore. I’m pretty sure karma herself will come down and smite me if I breathe a word about this to anyone. Well it’s not like I have anyone to talk to anyways._

“Oh shit, dislocated shoulder in the Pit. Um, I have to go but… I love you Mark, and I miss you.”

The door slammed again on her way out. Andrew opened his eyes, staring intently at the ceiling. _Right, I’m just going to shove this experience into the deep recesses of my brain and never think about it again._ He nodded to himself. _Time to sleep… again._

**\---------**

When Andrew opened his eyes again, it was to the same door slamming. _Jesus, someone should really tighten those hinges, that’s irritating as hell._ His phone notified him that he had four and a half hours left until he needed to get up.

He heard pacing on the other side of the room, and, unwilling to repeat what happened with Dr Torres, he started to sit up, prepared to leave before he could get caught as an unwilling eavesdropper. However, before he could even make it all the way up, he heard a voice. 

“Hey Lex, hey Mark”

_That’s Dr Avery. God, my day could not get any worse could it?_

“Um, usually I go to the cemetery for these kinds of talks but it’s been insane today and I’m not going to get the chance to leave for a while now. There was a plane crash earlier.”

_Against his better judgement, Andrew found himself listening in. Not much was known about Dr Avery among the interns except how he was “really freaking hot” and that he and Kepner had the most tumultuous marriage possibly ever._

“I miss you both a lot. Samuel was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through and all I could think about was how I wanted to talk to you guys about it. Regardless of everything that happened, you were my best friends, and I don’t know how to talk to anyone else about it. I mean, I would talk to Meredith but I think she’s too Dark and Twisty, even for me.”

_Samuel… that must be the name of his and Kepner’s baby. Dark and Twisty? Dr. Grey? Well that would explain why she used to be called Medusa…_

“I had to operate on one of your old patients earlier this year, Mark. I, uh, went off your surgical plan on the final surgery and all I could think about was how I was betraying you. But I think you’d be proud of me. I remember the hours you made me spend in the skills lab practicing my sutures, and now your hard work has paid off.”

_Dr. Avery in the skills lab for sutures? That’s insane – his sutures are literally perfect. I can’t even imagine how much time it took him to get them that good._

“Lex, your birthday is coming up. Do you remember how I spent it last year? Doing tequila shots with Karev, Grey, and Yang?” 

_Yang? Like Harper Avery-nominee as a fellow, cardiothoracic surgery legend Christina Yang??_ He’d known that Yang worked at Grey-Sloan, but holy crap. _Surgery gods did tequila shots?_

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do this year but hopefully it won’t involve almost getting alcohol poisoning. Maybe I’ll spend some time in the library, try to channel your spirit…” 

_That’s his pager._

“Crap, I gotta go. Um, keep an eye out for Samuel for me. Take care of him, please. I’ll talk to you all soon, ok?”.

Andrew heard the swishing of scrub pants as Avery left the on-call room and heaves sigh. _I’m going to have to just wipe this entire day from my mind huh? God, if this happens a third time I’m going to move to a different on-call room_.

**\---------**

Andrew’s alarm went off, interrupting his lovely dream about a busy ER, filled to the brim with surgical traumas. He turned it off and buried his head under his pillow, dreading going down to the Pit and getting iced out by his fellow interns.

He was just drifting off again when he heard muttering on the other side of the on-call room’s door. Curious, he swung off the top bunk and quietly approached the door, taking care not to make too much noise. 

Unable to make out the exact words, he tipped his head against the door. He was able to make out a few phrases, in Dr Grey’s whispery lisp. 

“Lexie… miss you… sorry… kids are well… Maggie… love you… take care Mark…” 

Those words were followed by a moment of empty silence before Andrew heard the sound of of sneakered feet walking away. 

_Wow… so this on-call room must be some sort of homing device for insanely talented surgeons or something._

Unwilling to overhear the grieving voices of any other doctors at the hospital, Andrew grabbed his coat and exited the on-call room for the Pit, determined to find at least one surgery that needed extra intern hands.

**\---------**

Andrew arrived at his (Arizona’s, but whatever) place around five the next day, half-asleep and stumbling. He collapsed on the couch, prepared to fall asleep there, inevitable neck pain or not. He heard the sound of Arizona’s footsteps on the stairs (one always slightly heavier than the other) and he prepared himself for a monologue about her day.

When he was greeted with silence he frowned and (reluctantly) sat up. A silent Arizona was a dangerous one, and if he had missed a rent payment he needed to figure that out now before he woke up to find his toothpaste replaced with glue or something. 

Turning, he saw Arizona seated at the dining table, looking slightly vacant. 

“Are you alright? Is something wrong?” his voice was too loud in the silence 

“There was a plane crash today.”, she didn’t look at him. 

“I heard. I wasn’t working during it though.”

“I was in a plane crash. It’s how I lost my leg,” she still wasn’t looking at him. 

“I know,” not one intern had come to this hospital without hearing the legend of the infamous Seattle Grace Five and every possible rumor about them. 

“Mark died in a plane crash.”

“I know.”

“I miss him,” she looked at him. Her eyes were years older than the rest of her face.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she smiled sadly at him, a cousin to the smile she gave to family members of patients: melancoly and reassuring at the same time, “but thank you for asking.”.

He didn’t want to leave her alone, so he sat in the silence with her. He had never realized how much Mark Sloan lived in this house. Andrew had never met the man but could easily pick him out of a line-up of a thousand random people. It was a shrine to his memory. 

“Can I ask a question, Arizona?” he was nervous, but less nervous than he would have been if he hadn’t been living with her for months. 

She hummed an affirmative. 

“What’s up with the on-call room with the slamming door? The one on the fourth floor with the big window? I tried to take a nap in it today but it was super busy”

Arizona laughed, an unexpected sound. “That on-call room is notoriously affiliated with Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey. She… injured him in it on accident and people tend to go to it when they want to be reminded of them. I imagine this plane crash brought back a lot of memories for a lot of people, so they went there”. 

At a loss for words, Andrew huffed a laugh. “Should I ask what kind of incident?”

Arizona started laughing and shook her head. “Probably not, for your peace of mind”. 

_Grandma said, “Boy, go and follow your heart  
And you’ll be fine at the end of the line  
All that’s gold isn’t meant to shine  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please imagine that the doors are thin enough for this to be feasible, thanks. 
> 
> Bonus points if anyone can guess what the "incident" Arizona mentions is. 
> 
> Lyrics are from Going, Going, Gone, by Bob Dylan which is the name of the tribute episode for Mark.


End file.
